Resolution Diary
by LoveHGSS
Summary: Written for the CCOAC New Year's Resolution Challenge. Emily keeps a diary over a week period during her resolution, but she writes about much more than just that.
1. Chapter 1

Summary – Written for the CCOAC New Year's Resolution Challenge. Emily keeps a diary over a week period during her resolution, but she writes about much more than just that.

**Warning – 18 and over only. Language and eventual sexual themes.**

**Day 1**

6:00 AM - Okay. Today is day one of seven. I'm hot off the New Year's Resolution insanity, and I am ready to get started! Every year, the BAU issues a challenge to those who wish to participate, and they are given a partner to keep your spirits up, and off you go! This year, I've received 'Be healthy both mentally and physically by becoming a vegetarian and doing yoga for seven days'. At first, Reid kept rattling off reasons why being a vegetarian was UNHEALTHY, but I'm ignoring him for the time being. I'm going to have problems giving up burgers, though. The yoga should be easy enough, as I'm typically fairly active. I'm anxious to see who my partner is. I know most of the team signed up. I'm hoping it's one of them because then we can keep each other on track if we get a case for any of those days. According to the paper I got, I'll be meeting my partner at some yoga place after work and then we'll be going to a Thai restaurant afterwards. I'm secretly hoping it's the cute guy from the second floor. Fingers crossed!

Noon – On my way to work, I picked up some yoga gear, and I'm a little uneasy about what the internet told me would be good for yoga. I don't go out in skin-tight workout pants and a tank top very often. So I stuck with a red tank I already owned picked up some looser pants, running shoes, ankle socks (yuck), my very own yoga mat, a few DVDs for the road, and headband that I probably won't wear. I've already almost relapsed into being a carnivore. I saw some beef jerky on my way out, and instantly picked it up. I wonder if there's vegetarian beef jerky. I'll have to ask Reid.

5:37 PM – Shockingly, we did not have a case to go on today, but I have a feeling we're prepping for a few interviews in Vermont. At least that's what Hotch led me to believe earlier. He's been so quiet lately, almost cryptic. I have a bad feeling that he's going to ask me to go interview some sicko who likes brunettes… again. But enough of that! I'm trying to decompress before going home to change and then go meet my partner for the next seven days at 6:30. I wonder if the gym will let me use my own mat…

10:40 PM – Holy shit! My partner is Hotch! He never even mentioned it! He KNEW that I had that challenge and he said NOTHING! I was a little mad at first. But then I saw what he was wearing. Who knew that Hotch had such manly calves and arms? Not me! I think I may just be sex deprived. But the yoga instructor put even worse thoughts into my head. She asked us if we'd like to sign up for couple's yoga. It met after hours, as it was a little risqué. Nothing like sex in public (though that doesn't sound like a terrible idea) but it was one helping the other into semi-erotic poses. I might have turned red, but Hotch didn't miss a beat. He very calmly declined without explanation, took my elbow and burst out laughing once we were out of earshot. Is the idea of me in semi-erotic poses funny? I didn't think of that at the time, but I'm wondering it now. Way to kill my self esteem, boss. The yoga class went really well. I think I faired a little better than Hotch, though. He looked a little uncomfortable in a few of the poses, and I can't say I wasn't happy about that after he'd laughed at the idea of being in semi-erotic poses with me.

Dinner went well enough. I may have yelled a little bit on the way there about how he hadn't told me, but he didn't really seem all that sorry. The food was surprisingly good. I've always loved Thai food, but I always ate it with chicken or shrimp or SOME kind of meat. I didn't eat the tofu, and neither did Hotch. I'm not ready to take THAT bullet anytime soon, if at all. I'm going to have to ask Reid if vegetarians eat any kind of sushi's. I heard someone talking about it during the yoga class. What I really want right now is some bacon. Hot, greasy, crispy bacon. On the bright side, I'm not even a little sore. Not that I was really worried, but some of those positions stretched muscles I didn't even know I had. Good night!

**Day 2**

5:11 AM – I think I'm going to die. My thighs are on fire, my knees won't bend, my arms won't go up but a few inches. I'm having problems writing this. I think I need a medic. A smoking hot one. Seriously? Sex deprived. I think I'm already having the weird dreams Reid told me I might have because I've changed my diet. I had weird dreams about Hotch in a bikini. What is that? PG would probably tell me that it means I want Hotch to crossdress and do me. It wouldn't be the first time she's said that. I don't want to talk about it.

9:00 AM – I thought a shower would be a good idea. It wasn't. I'm surprised I was even able to drive to work. Derek laughed at me when I waddled in, that asswipe. He asked me if I got laid last night. What is up with everyone and sex lately? Or is it just me noticing everyone talking about it? Maybe I should get Derek drunk and just do him already. He is attractive. He'd do. Nah… He couldn't handle me. He'd go crying to his mommy. I'm amused at this image. On a different note, I really want a burger. I know it's only the second day, but I think I'm having withdraws. I'm really mad at Reid because I assumed I could have fish (college roommate was a so-called vegetarian and ate fish and eggs) but he told me I couldn't. It's because the paper didn't say that I could be a pesco or lacto-ovo vegetarian. I briefly considered hitting him.

11:00 AM – That's it! I am going to take more Advil than I should and go to Burger King and get the biggest damn burger they have with extra bacon!

11:20 AM – Okay. That was childish. I didn't go. I'm trying so hard, but I'm in pain and I'm hungry! I'm going to have Garcia find me a good place with lots of carbs that's vegetarian friendly.

12:39 PM – I think I am in love with Hotch. Before I even made it to Garcia's office, Hotch hunted me down and asked me to lunch. He took me to, funnily enough, Veggie King. THEY HAD BURGERS! Well, not REAL burgers, but they tasted almost the same! Almost. And they had veggie BACON! I didn't ask how they made it, and I don't want to know. All I DO know is that I am so happy right now. Oh… and… I kind of hugged Hotch. And he kind of hugged me back. That part I'm being serious about. I think I scared him. Hell, I scared myself! To be completely honest, I almost kissed him. I oddly wanted to. Don't get me wrong, I'd have to be completely blind to not see how sexy he was, especially in yoga gear, but never had I even considered acting on it. Then the man gives me fake meat and I'm a little slut. Or would that be a whore? Prostitute, perhaps?

5:00 PM – Another weird day. I'm actually almost done with my overdue paperwork. I hope this isn't the calm before the storm. The last time we had a big gap between cases, it was Foyet who we ended up with. I'm trying my best to prolong my working day, as I'm not looking forward to going to yoga. It's not like I can lie to my partner and say I couldn't make it because I was called away on a case. Hotch just texted me and told me to meet him in a half an hour, no excuses. Does he really know me that well? I hate him.

10:55 PM – I can't feel my legs. Oh, wait, yes I can. THEY HURT! Hotch seems perfectly fine! He took me out to that Veggie King place again and I had bacon sandwich on flatbread. The bacon did taste a little different this time, but it was still delicious. Hotch ate some weird looking 'pepperoni' sub thing. He offered me a bite, but I couldn't do it. I DID do something a little weird. I invited Hotch up to my apartment for coffee. He kindly reminded me it was way past his bedtime as it was and coffee wouldn't be the best idea. However! He said he wished he could. I wish he could have, too. I'd be naked by now. I think the fake meat has hormones in it, because I'm really starting to find Hotch ridiculously attractive. That can't be good.

**Day 3 – **

8:41 PM – I spoke too soon. We're on a case in Michigan right now. I don't think it's going to be too tough, though. It's a really small town and nobody seems to be able to shut up. Mark my words, we'll find this guy in less than two days. Bring it, bitch! On a good note, there's a really good vegetarian friendly place right by our hotel, and Hotch and I tried out a veggie pizza. It was actually pretty good. I always get the meaty pizzas. I found that I really like pineapple on my pizza. I also learned that Hotch will steal your pineapple if you aren't looking. And I learned that when Morgan starts to moan at the taste of sausage, to not be taking a sip of water when Reid asks him if he enjoys thick sausage. JJ was really quiet today, but I think that it bothers her that the male victim's name is Will. She's still smiling at my stupid jokes, so I don't think it's anything too serious. Also, Hotch hates me. He informed me just after dinner that I'm to meet him down in the hotel gym to do some yoga stretches and run on the treadmill. I hate him.

11:15 PM – I love Hotch. In a completely platonic way, of course. I think… ANYWAY! He brought me two vegetarian beef jerky sticks and told me I could have one after the stretches and the other one after the treadmill. I was all over that. I think I like them better than the actual meat ones. I'm still worried about what they actually use to make them, though. He kind of weirded me out, too. On the elevator ride up to the fourth floor, he slung his arm around my shoulders, pulled me close (he smells so good!), and told me he was happy I was his partner in all this. I told him I was, too, and just barely stopped myself from kissing him again. Why do I want to kiss him so badly? Oh, I don't know, it might be because I'm sex deprived and he's a damn good looking man with those big hands. I bet he's sex deprived, too. Maybe we can work something out… At this point, I'm ready to go hunt Reid down…

_A/N – Please take just a moment out to review! No matter how short or how long, I love every review! Thank you! Next chapter coming soon!_Hel


	2. Chapter 2

Summary – Written for the CCOAC New Year's Resolution Challenge. Emily keeps a diary over a week period during her resolution, but she writes about much more than just that.

**Warning – 18 and over only. Language and eventual sexual themes.**

**Day 4**

10:27 PM – Ridiculous. What an idiot. This dipshit tried to kill Hotch! You do NOT try to kill Hotch. It was way too easy. We set up a low level sting and Hotch went into the bar the guy was finding men, Hotch hit on the bartender (who was the killer's ex, surprise, surprise), and he followed Hotch back to a little house just outside of town and went after him. How stupid can you get? It was me who ended up shooting him. Morgan was two steps behind me, and Hotch didn't even get a chance to reach for his gun. The team will never know, but I cried for a long time while I was packing up. I had met the guy's family. I'd promised to bring him home safe if I could. But I couldn't. I barely had time to blink before he tried to shoot Hotch. They'll also never know how scared I was. Not of him seeing me, but him actually hitting Hotch. I've seen Hotch bloodied before, I've sat at his hospital bedside for hours, but I was never shaken this badly. I've learned so well to keep my emotions in check but I almost lost it in front of everyone.

On a lighter note, Hotch seemed really worried and bought me a few of those really good not-actually-beef beef jerky sticks. I even managed to smile. I wonder if he saw right through me, though. I feel like we cheated today because we haven't done any yoga but I think we have a damn good reason not to. We're landing now. I can't wait to get home and see my cat, Sergio.

**Day 5**

4:52 AM – I don't even know what the hell to say right now. I'm so confused… So, after I got home, I had barely changed into my pajamas and there was a knock at my door. Guess who it was? No, not Brad Pitt, sorry to disappoint. It was Hotch. And he was in yoga gear. I firmly believe this was much better than Brad Pitt. You can have him, Angie. I'll take Aaron Hotchner over that any day of the week. Tight black shorts and a tight black shirt. I think I drooled a little. Or a lot. He didn't notice because he was freezing and practically shoved me out of the way to get into my apartment. He had a yoga mat, which I noticed only after I made sure I had looked at every inch of him. Only downside was that I didn't get a look at ANY inch of his… uh… So, where was I? Oh, right, his mat. I suddenly wasn't so happy to see him. He didn't say anything, either. But he DID laugh at me after seeing my attire, which was a white tank top and a pair of pink and purple plaid pajama pants. Talk about embarrassing!

Eventually he told me to go get changed into my yoga clothes. I did. Very reluctantly, but I did. I even prolonged it more by taking my time to put up my hair, brush my teeth (just in case), grab bottles of water, and pretend that I couldn't find my mat. Hotch kindly informed me it was by my front door. Damn that man! He didn't even spend a minute by my door! Oh! Before I forget (not likely, but I can pretend it isn't important), it was confirmed that Hotch wears briefs! I knew it! I totally win the bet with JJ and Garcia! Don't get too excited, I found out while we were in this weird pose and his shorts slipped a little. I wish that wasn't why, but I can't lie to myself THAT well. He also had the same DVD as me, which I found really funny. He didn't find it terribly amusing, but… it IS Hotch. I wasn't expecting much.

The reason why I'm so confused it that, after we were finished with our stretches and poses, he sat on my couch. I asked myself why he'd do that, as he's never done that before, and I figured maybe he wanted sex. Because that's what I wanted. Thankfully, I kept my clothes on long enough for him to tell me to sit with him. I thought that was a good start. Maybe some foreplay, a little touchy touchy, feely feely. Wrong. He wanted to talk about the case. I had been right. He saw right through me. I wanted to tell him that he was just overanalyzing, but he gave me that look. That look that said 'don't lie to me, I already know the truth'. I fucking hate that look! And I fucking hate him! Wow, Emily. Childish much? And apparently losing my mind because I just talked to myself in a diary. Okay. Moving on!

So I sat with him, and he scooted closer to me, only adding relevance to my sex thoughts. Then he reached over and took my hand. HE TOOK MY HAND IN HIS! I thought I'd died. I think I orgasmed right there. Not really, but I wish I would have. It would have made the conversation that followed much easier. Somehow, I ended up confessing everything. Well, almost everything. I told him that I'd felt like the worst person on the planet because I hadn't been able to bring the guy home to his mom and sisters. I told him that I was scared that he'd been shot. I told him that I was really scared because I thought maybe he was dead after he'd ducked out of the way. He squeezed my hand when I said that, and I couldn't stop the tears. I tried. I tried so hard not to cry, but he was being too comforting.

Hotch somehow managed to break through every defense I had. I was able to keep myself from telling him that I thought I was falling in love with him. I didn't tell him that I've wanted to rip his clothes off since the first day I met him. I didn't ask him to hold me, like I wanted to. But somehow he knew. Hotch always knows. He let my hand go, and I panicked, thinking I'd said something wrong, but he did that so he could put his arm around my shoulders. He brought my face to his chest and he stroked my hair while I cried for the man I killed. He let me cry for thinking I could have lost him. JJ and Garcia have never seen me break down like that. Hotch kept telling me that everything was okay, that I'd done the right thing, that I was allowed to be scared in situations like that. Had it been another time, or another person, I probably would have told them to fuck off, but it was just what I needed to hear. Like I said, Hotch always knows.

I briefly considered running away and locking myself in my room after I had cried myself out. I was so embarrassed. I don't think I've ever been so self-conscious as I was once I realized what exactly had happened. And the fact that Hotch hadn't let me go shook me to my core. The mood felt so different to me. I was suddenly very aware of him. He was the same man I see nearly every day, but he wasn't my boss anymore. That's when I realized he wasn't TRYING to be my boss. He was being my friend. It all made sense to me. The reason why I feel so conflicted over any kind of feelings I have for him is that I don't love my boss. I love my friend. I love that he protected me in the hardest way possible. He sent me away to save me. A boss wouldn't care as much as he does. He told me once that he was the one who pushed for it. He wanted me safe. When I had said that it was best for the team, he said that didn't even cross his mind until he was back at work. To me that isn't a boss.

As much as I love my girls, no one makes me feel like Hotch. He pulls things from me that I never thought possible. He's broken my walls down more than anyone I know combined. I trust him wholeheartedly. Both in and out of the work place. Realizing all this was almost as scary as watching him get shot at. And as he stroked my hair and held me close, I started to wonder what his feelings for me are. I know he went out on a date with another person, but I also know that it wasn't serious, and he doesn't see her anymore. I wasn't about to ask what his feelings are, and I never will. Because he's my boss. He's my friend. Still considering sleeping with him, though. Can you blame me?

Alright, now that I'm done with the mushy shit…. I firmly believe that the fake meat has hormones in it. Hotch eventually let me sit up after a few attempts. And I seriously had another urge to kiss him. Just once! That is all I ask! Sure, sex would be fantastic (or at least I daydream that it will be) but I really, REALLY wanted to plant one on him. He left not long after that. Probably because I started to fall asleep sitting up. Oops! I need to shower before work. I've already spent a good half an hour or so on this. I think I'm procrastinating. I'm really good at that.

Noon – I am really frustrated. Hotch has barely said a word to me today. I know that it's professional once we reach the office, and I'm holding it together, but I'm really uncomfortable seeing him after what happened last night. Do you see what I mean about the hormones in the meat now? I'm acting like a sex deprived teenager. I'm getting annoyed with myself. I want some fucking bacon!

1:45 – Derek Morgan is going to die a slow, painful death. That little shit! How dare he? How DARE he? I fucking hate him. He 'lost' his cell phone on his desk (which was a complete lie) and left his bacon cheeseburger from my favorite place two streets away on my desk so it wouldn't 'add another item to move' from his desk. I hope he gets shot in the vest and that it leaves a huge, painful bruise. I cannot believe him. And guess what I had for lunch? Nope, not even a veggie burger. I had a fucking salad. A salad. With no meat. Why? Because I signed up for this stupid challenge! To make matters worse, Hotch wasn't in his office around lunchtime. I'm starting to seriously wonder if he feels just as awkward about yesterday as I do…

10:56 PM – Alright. I'm a little calmer now. More at peace with things. Hotch took me to Veggie King after work. I was so stupid earlier. It was just because we were at work. And lunchtime? He was in a budget meeting, and went to go find me, but I was already gone. I felt bad about that one. I realized I sounded like an angry fifteen year old who's boyfriend wasn't in first period at school, and neither was that stupid blonde bitch who we ALL knew had plastic surgery. Not that that ever happened to me. I saw it on some teenage drama the other day. Reality TV helps me relax. That's not normal, is it?

So, after dinner we went, did yoga, and were asked to do the couple's yoga again. I tried to say yes, but Hotch answered before I could. He's no fun. What a prude! Although, that may be a little awkward for him… seeing as we aren't having sex. Like we should be. How can I bring that up? I can't come out with "Hey, Hotchner, let's fuck." Hmmm… Actually, that doesn't sound too bad. It's totally me. Brash and to the point. Perhaps I'll just show up to work naked and see what happens. I need to remember to shave my legs… On a different, yet related, note, there are people kissing on my TV right now. I hate them. And I still hate Derek Morgan. I may have to 'accidently' slip some laxatives into his coffee. Oh, wait. He doesn't drink coffee I hand him anymore for that exact reason. I'll get Reid in on it. He's mad at him for something or other. What's a wedgie again?

After watching the people going at it on my TV screen, I'm popping in a porn and rubbing one out. Okay, I'm lying. I don't own any porn. I should, though. Maybe that would break off some of this built up tension. That's another diary, though! Not that I've been sticking to this one as strictly for writing about my new vegetarian lifestyle. Sometimes I wish I could just be a dumbass woman who isn't aware of the dangers of sleeping with strangers so I can go out and get laid. At this point, Rossi is starting to look pretty good…

_A/N – Whether it's a smiley face or a novel, I would love to hear what you think about this chapter! Thanks for reading!_


	3. Chapter 3

Summary – Written for the CCOAC New Year's Resolution Challenge. Emily keeps a diary over a week period during her resolution, but she writes about much more than just that.

A loving dedication to the lovely ladies on Twitter, who have been very sweetly nagging me to get this next chapter up.

**Warning – 18 and over only. **

**Day 6 – **

4:33 AM – I'm awake early. On a Saturday. I blame Hotch. I had another weird dream. It was really vivid, too, which is kind of rare for me. I usually don't sleep deep enough to remember my entire dream when I wake up. I had this dream (if you can call it that) about how Hotch and I were running after someone but we couldn't catch whoever it was. He pulled me into this alleyway and told me to be quiet. I didn't know why I had to be silent, but I listened to him. All of a sudden, the alleyway started to get smaller and smaller, and Hotch pulled me really close and I SWEAR that I could smell his cologne. I felt like I was in Star Wars. But just at the part where the trash thing closed in on them. That was Star Wars, right? I'm not awake…

So out of nowhere, this cheeseburger appears, and the voice of God (what I'm assuming was God) rang out and said, "Eat the cheeseburger and live, don't and die." I wanted to eat the cheeseburger, but Hotch kept babbling on about how we'd break our resolutions and blah blah blah. I pulled away and said that I couldn't care less about that, that I didn't want him to die. After that, he let me eat the burger. When I was done, the walls kept coming in. I clung to Hotch again, and realized it was then or never. I kissed him like there was no tomorrow, like I had only seconds to live. He didn't kiss me back, though. I woke up mouthing my pillow.

Mouthing my pillow.

Can you imagine? It was really terrible. Even in my dreams he won't kiss me! He is making me lose sleep, he's not letting me eat what I want, and I'm about ready to see if JJ is a lesbian yet! I don't know how much longer I can conduct myself in professional manner around him. I want to put my arms around him and kiss the daylights out of him. I want to run my hands all over his chest, his arms, his forearms, his stomach, his thighs, his calves, his sure-to-be-beautiful penis.

Is that so much to ask for?

8:20 AM – This is torture. Hotch just called and wants to go to the gym early today. I'm hoping for a case simply because I don't know if I can handle seeing him in those shorts today. Can't he wear something that covers him a little better? One of those space suits, maybe? Okay, now I'm having images of weightless sex in space. This is going to be a long day…

Noon – Back at home for a little while. Apparently Hotch has schedule us for an interview in New York that I was not aware of. I'm kind of pissed about that. He tried to win me over with those tasty jerky sticks and a trip to our usual veggie burger place. I barely managed to keep my hands to myself today. I did fail on that a little bit. But it wasn't as if I grabbed him… Well, okay, I kind of did.

See, it happened when we were leaving the gym; he held the door for me and I just happened to brush past him. It wasn't my fault that he didn't hold the door all the way open! I accidently (well, maybe purposefully) tripped over the rug and caught myself on his arm. And then I may have leaned into him for support when he put his arm around me to help me get my footing. I also may have lied that I had rolled my ankle, which resulted in him helping me 'walk it off'.

What the hell is wrong with me? And what the hell is wrong with him? I wasn't the only one holding on a little longer than what they needed to. I'm really getting annoyed with this whole cat and mouse game that him and I have been playing for a long time. Why can't one of us just break down and confess? Or am I reading too much into his small touches? I know there was something more in his actions and his words the other night. I'm not in the BAU for nothing. I'm a damn good profiler and I long ago threw out the unspoken rule to not profile each other in regards to Hotch.

I know it isn't fair, but I don't give a damn. He does it to me all the time. Yes, he's naturally intuitive, as am I, but the things we notice about each other don't just come from a normal person's perspective. I feel like I'm describing us like we have super powers. Now I see why Garcia calls us crime-fighting superheroes. I'm going to have to stop picking at her about that…

Anyway! I know it isn't the best time to do it, but I'm going to say something to Hotch on the plane ride back after the interview with this asshole named Jerry Rauch. I'm decent enough to wait until after, rather than unloading all this crap on him just before going to do our job. How am I supposed to do this though? Do I come out and say, "Oh, hey, by the way, I love you."? I don't think that would go over very well. But that's the most direct way I can think of doing it. What if he doesn't feel anything close to the same way? It's times like these that I wish I had friends outside of the BAU that I could call. Not that I would, but just knowing I had the option would be comforting.

I can't procrastinate any longer. Wish me luck!

6:03 PM – I chickened out. I'm such a pussy! I had the perfect opportunity to do it, too! We talked about the guy the entire way to New York and the interview went really smoothly. Rauch was upfront and answered all the questions in as much detail as possible, which made my stomach turn a little when he talked about killing a few kids that had 'gotten in his way'. We were back on our way home within two hours of getting there. Hotch kept talking about going to dinner, but I kept trying to move the subject to something else that would allow me to ease into telling him how I felt.

But here I am, waiting for him to come pick me up so we can go to dinner and maybe a yoga class again. I told him I refused to do yoga after eating, but I'm sure he'll be able to talk me into it. I'm so worried that I'll carry these feelings around with me for the rest of my life and never tell him. I feel like that's the direction I'm taking right now. I feel like it's my only option unless he speaks up, even though I don't know how he feels. I'm starting to wonder if all these 'signs' are just in my head now.

I can't do this anymore. I can't play around. I'm almost forty-two, the longest relationship I've had was with a murderer, I have no children, and I live alone with a cat. Only the people who have been in this exact situation would ever understand how badly it hurts me. I'm not open about my feelings, I don't talk to anyone about how low I feel every time I walk through my front door and have no one to greet me but Sergio. I'm far from depressed but I'm further away from happy. I'm okay but I can't keep doing okay.

How hard is it to find someone who will just love me for me? Who wants to come home and see me? Who doesn't want to take me out to dinner, but wants to just sit inside in our pajamas and watch a movie? Why can't that be Hotch? Why is that so hard? Why do I have to love him? Why can't I just get over it and move on with my life? Not like I had many prospects or options before I fell for him, but… but I don't see anyone because of him. I'm waiting and I now realize that. But not anymore. I can't do this anymore. I can't have my heart jump out of my chest just for him to shove it back in there with a small smile and walk away from me.

I don't want to feel like this. I don't want to feel alone. I don't want to love him. I don't want to see him. I don't want to NOT see him. I don't know what to do with myself right now. I'm confused and hurt and it's all my own fault. I feel deflated. Yeah, that's a good word for it. Deflated.

Wow. That was a little dramatic, wasn't it? I feel a little better, though. I'm starting to realize that I'm a woman who is in love with a man that will either never reciprocate, or won't act on it for various reasons. I'm not going to push but I'm not going to wait anymore. The only thing I'm not sure how to do is let go. With Ian Doyle, I let go the second I hit American soil. It was hard and it was emotional, but I stopped being Lauren and became Emily again. But now I'm Emily and I can't just switch personalities like that with this.

It's almost seven now, and I need to go wash the running makeup from my face and suck up my feelings like the big girl that I am. I can do this. I can compartmentalize this just like I do with everything else. I'm Emily fucking Prentiss and this will not affect me for another minute. I can do this.

10:00 PM – I can't do this. I might be Emily fucking Prentiss, but I'm also just Emily. I'm Emily who is in love with her best friend. I know what I have to do. I know this isn't the hardest choice I've ever made, but it's right up there. I can't see Hotch anymore. After tomorrow is over, I'm cutting all ties with him. I'm going to do what everyone else on the team does. I'm going to view him as my boss and nothing more. I've dug my way out of bad situations and I'm going to do the same with this.

Tonight at dinner he talked about Jack a lot. He talked about how Jack asked about me earlier that day and wanted to know if maybe I'd like to see him sometime soon. To some that might seem like a step in the right direction, but I could read his face. He didn't mean for all of us to get together as this blossoming family unit, he meant that Jack missed me and Hotch wanted to give his son what he wanted. It hurts so much to know that I won't see Jack nearly as much, if at all, but it's probably for the best. Once Hotch finds a good woman it'll be an easy transition instead of confusing him by having me around as one of the few women in Hotch's life.

I used to never cry over things like this, but I find myself doing that a lot now. It isn't healthy for me. This is for my own good. I don't know how I'm going to tell Hotch that I don't want to see him outside of work anymore, but I'm going to do it. I'm not going to make promises to myself anymore only to break them. After tomorrow, I'm promising myself that I will get over my feelings for Aaron Hotchner. I'm promising myself that I'll stop this silly nonsense and work on cutting Hotch out of my personal life. Because even though it's not what I want, it's what I NEED.

That's odd. I think I just heard a knock on my door… That was a knock. I'm hoping with every fiber of my being that it isn't Aaron Hotchner…

_A/N – Please take just a second out to review! Whether it be a smiley face or a million and five words, I appreciate every single review! Thank you!_


	4. Chapter 4

After arguing with myself about this for a very long time, I've decided not to write this (or the next) chapter in diary form. I do hope that it doesn't make anyone enjoy the story any less. A big thank you to the ladies who let me rant about it.

**Warning – 18 and over only. Sexual content. Language.**

_Knock._

_Knock._

_Knock knock knock._

Emily Prentiss set down her small diary on the coffee table before slowly making her way toward the door. She knew who was behind it, but she still had a small flicker of hope that she was wrong as she looked through the peephole. That flicker was extinguished immediately. With a heavy sigh, she unlocked the three deadbolts before finally swinging the door wide open.

There stood Aaron Hotchner, dressed in a pair of crisp black pants and a long-sleeved white button up. It was the same outfit he'd been wearing when they'd gone to dinner an hour or two previous, making Emily wonder if he'd bothered to go home at all, as she'd already changed out of her dinner clothes and into a pair of a blue sweats and a black t-shirt. They stood there for a few minutes, just looking at each other. Hotch raised his eyebrows and Emily broke eye contact and stepped aside, giving him plenty of room to be able to enter her apartment.

Emily took as much time as she could to relock her door, not quite ready to face him after she'd decided that she would cut him out of her life in any way other than as her boss. Him being there made it worse. She didn't like to question herself, and he had a bad habit of making her do that more than everyone else combined. Once she turned around, he looked at her questioningly, stopping her from asking him if he'd like something to drink. She could see in his eyes that he was there for a reason, so she waited for him to make the first move for conversation.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his dark eyes probing hers.

Emily wetted her lips. "What do you mean?" she asked in return.

"You've been acting differently," he deadpanned. "There's something wrong. And you had agreed to be open with me."

"It isn't about that," she said incredulously, but then realized she'd admitted to something being wrong. She quickly tried to dig herself out of the hole she had just thrown herself into. "I'm tired, that's all. I'm ready for this week to be over with." There, that had been honest enough.

Hotch didn't look convinced. He considered her for a moment, trying to get past the blank look on her face and figure her out. He was getting frustrated with her strange attitude over the past few days. He'd thought perhaps she had been embarrassed by breaking down in front of him. Or that she'd felt uncomfortable because he'd touched her more than normal. He wasn't able to help it, though. She'd been so upset, so scared, and he had wanted to take her pain away. He was trying to figure out what was wrong so he could try to fix that, too.

"You're lying," he insisted with a raise of his eyebrows. "I don't appreciate that, Emily. I thought that our friendship was past telling lies, small white ones or otherwise."

Hotch was rendered even more confused when Emily let out a frustrated sigh. She shook her head, trying to come up with a response that would seem to quell his curiosity well enough to get him out of her apartment. The thought of fully disclosing her feelings crossed her mind, but she banished it instantly, knowing that it would be the stupidest thing she'd ever done. Not only would she make a fool of herself, it would put a further strain on her ability to let go. She wasn't ready to be rejected. She'd rather just run from it.

"It's nothing," she persisted. "I'm honestly ready for this week to be over."

Hotch took a step toward her and crossed his arms over his chest. "You're lying by omission."

"Will you stop already?" she yelled, causing them both to reel back, neither prepared for her outburst.

"Emily, I…"

But Emily was too frustrated to stop and think about the words that were about to come out of her mouth. "Stop, Hotch! You don't understand, and you never will, okay? I don't want to talk to you about it, and nothing you say will change my mind. I'd really appreciate it if you would just leave."

The usually unreadable face of Aaron Hotchner morphed into complete and utter shock. He had read the hurt in eyes as she was speaking. He stood there looking at her for what felt like an hour, attempting to gauge whether she was serious or lashing out. His heart pounded in his ears when he realized that it was _his_ fault she was feeling the way she was. But what did it mean? What had he done? He hurriedly wracked his brain for something he had said to piss her off, but he found nothing.

Then the hurt in her eyes came to the forefront of his mind. Could that mean that she… No, she couldn't. She couldn't have feelings for him. But the moment he thought it, it made complete sense. He kicked himself for not seeing it sooner. He'd been hoping for some time that she'd throw him a sign that perhaps she felt something other than friendship, but she'd been a tightly sealed vault. He watched with rapt attention as she looked away from him, but not before he realized that her eyes had turned slightly pink.

Hotch watched helplessly as she swiped beneath her eyes. It had been three years almost to the day since he'd admitted to himself that he had an undeniable attraction to the brunette standing only a few feet away from him. The day he had wrapped his arms around her and held her while she cried had been the day he realized just how deep his feelings for her ran. He'd told himself long ago that he'd ignore it, that he wouldn't jeopardize their careers and their friendship. Standing there looking at her begin to cry, Hotch felt like a complete idiot.

But at the same time, it didn't change a thing. Even if she had the same feelings towards him as he did towards her, it would never happen. He knew it, she knew it. Their lives were with the BAU, and there was no way that they could get away with dating and working together at the same time. Hotch couldn't walk away from his job, and he wouldn't allow Emily to because he knew what it meant to her. He reminded himself that it would be her choice, but he'd never forgive himself if she left and regretted it. He did the only thing he could think of.

Emily froze when she felt his hands grab her upper arms. She didn't even have time to look at him before he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her tightly against him. The walls came down around Emily and she sagged against him. She allowed the tears to overflow as she wound her arms around his middle.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against her hair.

"For what?" she asked.

"For not seeing this sooner," he said, deciding that even if she didn't want to be honest, he was going to be. He was somehow hoping that it would force her to admit what he already knew. Because he always knew, even if sometimes it was a little too late. He heard her gasp quietly. "I'm sorry."

The whole situation hit Emily like a ton of bricks. She felt as if she was in one of her dreams, but Hotch wasn't wearing a bikini this time. This was real. He saw right through her and she hated him for it. But the way he held her, how he stroked her hair, how he whispered his apology, she also realized that he felt the same, or at least close to it. In the same breath, she realized that he wasn't just saying sorry for taking so long, he was saying sorry that it would never happen.

"I understand," she replied. And she did. She knew the consequences, and didn't want that burden to be placed on either of them. In a move that surprised her, he pulled back and cupped her face in his hands. Her tears had slowed, but he still tried to wipe them from her cheeks.

"I truly am sorry, Emily."

"I am, too," she said, finally looking up and meeting his eyes. She bit her lip when she saw how genuine he was, how much sorrow was set in his brown irises.

"Don't do that," he pleaded, his eyes shifting down to her mouth.

Out of habit, Emily wet her lips. Any resolve that Hotch had went out the window and he found himself leaning down the few inches to feel those lips on his. The room spun and Emily closed her eyes before kissing him back with all she had. She knew this might be the only kiss she'd ever get from him, and she wasn't about to allow him to leave it as a chaste one. She kissed him as she had always wanted to, and Hotch repaid in kind. His tongue prodded her bottom lip, and Emily knew it was now or never. There was no walking away from this in one piece if she acquiesced.

_A/N – Please take just a moment out to review! Whether it be one word or a million, I appreciate every review! Feel free to yell at me, I know I'm a big mean lady for leaving it there!_


	5. Chapter 5

My sincerest apologies for not updating in what feels like ages. Hopefully a bit of Hotly hotness will have you forgiving me in no time!

**Warning – 18 and over. Sexual content. **

_Previously on Resolution Diary –_

_Out of habit, Emily wet her lips. Any resolve that Hotch had went out the window and he found himself leaning down the few inches to feel those lips on his. The room spun and Emily closed her eyes before kissing him back with all she had. She knew this might be the only kiss she'd ever get from him, and she wasn't about to allow him to leave it as a chaste one. She kissed him as she had always wanted to, and Hotch repaid in kind. His tongue prodded her bottom lip, and Emily knew it was now or never. There was no walking away from this in one piece if she acquiesced._

Hotch made an approving noise when Emily all but attacked his mouth, hers opening and her tongue slipping along the top of his in a way that made his knees buckle. She fisted his shirt as his hands raked into her silky hair, trying desperately to tell her not to pull away quite yet. When he nipped her bottom lip, she knew she was in serious trouble. This wasn't supposed to be happening, but she couldn't bring herself to stop it. Hotch, on the other hand, was more verbose about it.

"We shouldn't," he mumbled against her lips.

She nodded in agreement but kissed him deeply again. Emily knew he didn't have much behind his statement as his hands untangled themselves from her hair and ran the length of her arms before he guided them to go around his neck. His fingers skimmed her sides, down to the hem of her shirt. Emily wasn't an idiot. She knew exactly where this was headed.

"We can't," she panted, pulling away from him.

Hotch searched her eyes. "No, we can't."

Within the length of a breath, they were pulling each other back in, their lips meeting with a franticness that hadn't been there before. Their hands clashed as Hotch tried to take her shirt over her head, but Emily's hands had reached the top of his button up a few seconds before. Laughing quietly, they broke apart and Emily lifted her arms above her head, allowing Hotch to quickly slip the shirt off her. He barely had time to glance at the top of her supple breasts encased in a white bra before he felt his own shirt being taken down his arms.

"We work together," Emily said quietly as her hands trailed sensually down his muscular chest and to his stomach, the small, raised scars not going unnoticed by her.

"We're friends," he added while reaching around her to unclasp her bra.

"It'd be stupid to sleep together," she whispered, her eyes sliding shut as he gently traced the three-leaf clover that Ian Doyle had burnt into her breast.

"Extremely stupid," he agreed, doing everything he could to stop her hand from traveling lower to the largest of his scars.

"We'd regret it."

At that, Hotch grabbed her hands and held them in his larger ones. He looked her directly in the eyes when he said, "I wouldn't."

"It wouldn't change anything," she pointed out with a sad smile.

"No," he admitted. "It wouldn't, but I would never regret a night with you, Emily."

"Then why?" she asked, a sudden anger flashing across her face. "I'm not a woman who does one night stands, Aaron."

The use of his first name sent a shiver down his back. "Then we won't do this."

"I want to," she said hurriedly, pressing closer against him, trapping their hands between them.

"I don't want _you_ to regret this, Emily."

She shook her head. "I won't. I… I've dreamed about this for too long. I know that's stupid, and cliché, but I want this so badly."

Knowing when to let things drop, Hotch kept any further thoughts on the matter to himself. He knew it was selfish, but he couldn't find it himself to be firm about putting a stop to what was sure to be a very interesting night.

He brought her hands to his lower abdomen. "I might flinch, but don't think you're doing something wrong."

"Okay," she whispered, taking a step back and looking at a large, puckered section of skin. Without hesitation, she left one hand on his stomach and took one of his hands and brought it back to her breast. "I have them, too."

Hotch's thumb brushed over the scar, admiration filling him when she didn't flinch or pull away.

"I trust you," she said, reading the look on his face.

He swallowed noticeably as she gently traced the scars across his stomach. "What's that?" he asked, glancing down to her flat stomach, an inch lower and to the right of her belly button.

Emily didn't have to look to know what he was talking about. "A heart tattoo."

"I gathered that much," he said with a small chuckle. "Did you get it because of…"

"The abortion?" she asked when he didn't continue. He nodded. "Yes. I got it not too long after I had spoken to you about it."

"Any others?" he asked, the anxiety of her touching his scars lessening the more she spoke.

"I have 'Hotch' in lovely scroll across my ass cheeks."

There was a beat of silence before they both laughed. "And I have 'Emily Prentiss' across my forehead."

Emily met his eyes again and smiled. "It's lovely."

"Yes, you are."

She tilted her head up and Hotch met her lips, allowing them to mold together for a few minutes before deepening the kiss again. Hotch found himself sliding his hand down to cup her breast, her hardening nipple pressing tantalizingly against his palm. Emily gasped, her nails involuntarily digging into his skin. They fumbled a little when trying to find the right way to get closer without having to remove their hands, but they both finally gave up and Emily wrapped her arms around his neck while he continued to massage her breast and kiss her so passionately it left her lightheaded.

"Bedroom?" she asked when he ducked his head to the side in order to leave a few wet kisses on neck.

For Hotch, this was the point of no return. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to have her once and then leave it at that. He could lie to himself all he wanted, but hurting her was the last thing he'd ever want. However, when her hands slid down his torso and began unbuckling his belt, he didn't stop her. Instead, he kicked off his shoes and cupped her jaw in his hands while she unbuttoned his slacks.

_He's touching my face_, Emily thought. _That only happens when someone loves…_ She stopped her thoughts, knowing she should have never read those stupid Cosmo magazines in the first place. He thankfully rendered her thoughtless as his hand on her breast slipped down, her nipple falling perfectly between his thumb and pointer finger. Without hesitation, Hotch rolled the bud, his breath catching in his throat when Emily let out a low moan. Her hands worked faster, unzipping his pants and insistently pushing them over his hips.

"Slow down," he breathed out when she cupped him through his briefs, his thick manhood warm and hard beneath her eager palm.

Emily took a deep breath but didn't move her hand. She pressed against his throbbing erection, the pulsing organ making her panties instantly damper than before. Noting her state of mind, Hotch decided to break her focus by ravaging her mouth. He carefully grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands away from him, knowing he'd meet a quick end if she continued at that pace. He put an arm around her waist and pulled her tightly against him, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as her front pressed against his.

"Bedroom," she repeated between kisses.

Hotch was going to force her to slow down if it killed him. But as her fingertips trailed up his arms and began making slow circles at the base of his neck, he knew he would lose the battle. He maneuvered out of his pants while trying to get to Emily's, and smiled when he remembered she was wearing sweats. In a move that surprised her, he took both her pants and skimpy underwear down in one swoop. Emily shivered when their thighs met, and nearly went down to her knees in anticipation as their groins molded together.

"Wow," he mumbled against her lips as he cupped her ass in both hands, his long fingers digging into her soft flesh.

Emily only moaned in response, but it triggered that part of Hotch that Emily always knew he had. He practically growled and bit into her lower lip while rotating his hips into hers. She boldly slid her leg up his, his erection only throbbing in response. Hotch took a step forward, causing Emily to take one back, towards the hallway leading to her bedroom. With a smirk, she reached down and all but ripped his briefs off of him, wanting nothing more than to see him completely bare. She managed to wiggle out of his tight embrace in order to look at him from head to toe.

"You're so beautiful," he breathed out, his eyes glued to her magnificent form. She was a perfect hourglass figure, her hips flaring out in a way that made his hands tingle.

"You're not so bad yourself," she said with a smile, not able to look away from the large appendage that was just _begging_ for her touch.

Emily nearly growled in frustration as Hotch caught her hand before it reached the object of her attention.

"Shit," he hissed. "I don't have any condoms."

Emily shook her head. "Birth control…we're both clean."

"Bedroom," he whispered, fully preparing himself to have to forcibly restrain her in order to get her to slow down.

The next few minutes were a blur; only once he had her pinned down on the bed did she really come back into a proper state of mind. Emily felt Hotch's fully naked body cover nearly every inch of hers. Her head tipped up to kiss him with abandon as his hands met hers beneath the pillow, their fingers intertwining as he pressed his hips against her, the tip of his swollen arousal teasing her aching sex.

"Aaron," she breathed against his lips. "Aaron, please."

A guttural sound left him and he jerked his hips forward, Emily arching against him as he filled her in one rough thrust. They gripped each other's hands when he paused, seated deep within her convulsing womanhood. Hotch's jaw clenched and he heaved out a shaky breath, his forehead resting against Emily's, trying to regain a little sense of control. He wanted nothing more than to pound her into the mattress, to hear her scream for him, to feel her tip over that edge and pull him along with her. But he knew he had to make this last. He wanted to relish it and burn it into memory because it was never going to happen again.

But then she clenched around him, her soaked walls mimicking a racing heartbeat, and he was a goner. The carnal side of him overtook any previous plan and he pulled back just barely before pressing right back in. Emily's feet left the backs of his thighs and slid up his toned bottom before coming to rest on his lower back. Their lips met as Hotch settled into a rough pace, Emily crying out into his mouth when he hit that sweet spot only a few minutes in.

"Harder," she begged, breaking the kiss in order to breathe properly.

Hotch obliged her, the feel of her wrapped so tightly around him clouding his judgment. He did just what he'd always wanted – he slammed into her, forcing her hips further and further into the bed until she flew over the edge. He tried to hold back, but Emily's intense orgasm spurred on his own, and soon they were clinging to each other in the aftermath of pure bliss.

"Don't go right away," Emily begged after Hotch finally decided to pull his sweat-slickened body from hers.

He rolled onto his back and reached out to her, only too happy when she turned to her side and cuddled up against him, her head coming to rest on his chest.

"I wouldn't dream of going anywhere for at least a few hours," he managed between breaths. "I think you may have killed me."

"Is that really what we've been missing? We should have done this years ago."

"We really should have," he conceded. "That was…"

"Amazing," she finished for him. He nodded in agreement.

The room fell silent and an awkwardness seeped into the room. They both knew that this wasn't going to work. They knew that this was a onetime thing, no matter how much they didn't want it to be. Emily clung to Hotch, and Hotch to Emily. Both opened their mouths a few dozen times, fully prepared to plead their case as to why they should give things a try. But as the night wore on, neither spoke up. So it was at seven the next morning that Hotch found himself waking up with a still-naked Emily draped across him, barely a word having been spoken between them since they'd had sex.

Hotch took a few minutes to enjoy the feel of her skin against his, but he knew that they needed to get ready for work. He placed a lingering kiss against her forehead before untangling her from around him. She sighed in her sleep and resituated herself once he finally managed to slip out of the bed. He stared at her for a few minutes before finally resigning himself to getting dressed and quietly leaving her apartment. When he had peaked in for one last glance at her peaceful form, her hair had been covering her face. What he didn't know was that silent tears were streaming down Emily's cheeks.

And yet, neither spoke up, nor did they plan to. It was going to be a _long_ day at work.

_A/N - I wasn't planning on going down a sadder route, but my muse has other's plans. Please take just a moment out to review! I would genuinely love to hear your thoughts on this chapter! Thank you for reading! _


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